Mother's Day
by Evil Twin Theory
Summary: What is it about Mother's Day that brings up bad memories for Toad? Short, one-shot story - all reviews are appreciated!


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AN: I still don't own X-Men Evolution, but that's not because I haven't been trying. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this story!

"Class," the young teacher began in a cheerful voice, "Do you know what next Sunday is?"

"Mother's Day!" most of the class chorused.

"That's right," their teacher confirmed, "So today we are going to make Mother's Day cards. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

A skinny boy sitting in the back of the class turned his attention from the window, out of which he had been staring, to look at his teacher who was now passing out scissors to those students that didn't already have a pair. Although he was only in first grade, Todd Tolensky didn't really care for school. He knew that he didn't quite fit in and the other students made sure that he wouldn't be able to fit. Still, the idea of making the cards appealed to him. His mother had been acting as if she had felt sick a lot lately, so maybe a card would make her feel better.

The teacher was making her back towards him and he held out his hand to take the scissors. She started to reach a pair to him, but quickly jerked her hand back.

"Oh," she said, her smiled fading, "I almost forgot - no scissors for you."

Todd just sat there looking at her sadly, his hand still outstretched. He had already learned that his teacher didn't look at him quite the same way as she did with the other students. "But Mrs. Clark," he began.

She shook her head. "Remember what happened the last time you had scissors?" she asked, pointing at a little girl with short, blonde hair that sat in front of him. She used to have long, blonde hair that she wore in a ponytail, which she loved to use to slap Todd in the face with whenever she could. He had asked her to stop over and over, but she would just laugh and say that if he had a problem, he should move. So, the last time they were working with scissors he had taken care of the problem.

"Please," he pleaded, "I won't do anything like that, ever again. I swear!"

"I'm sorry Todd, but the answer is still no. And you shouldn't swear."

Defeated, he slumped further in his seat and looked down at his desk. It was probably a stupid idea to make a card anyway. However, just as he was giving up, the teacher seemed to feel sorry for him.

"I'm no going to give you scissors," she said, "but you can still make a card. Just fold the construction paper in half and decorate it with your crayons."

"Okay," he said, brightening slightly. His crayons were mostly broken, but still he set to work creating the perfect card. His final result wasn't quite perfect, but it didn't look too bad and he had worked hard on it. Hopefully, it would make his mother feel better.

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Most of the teachers and faculty at the school assumed that Todd came from an impoverished family. That would of course explain his ragged, ill-fitting clothes and his usual lack of school supplies. They probably would have been surprised to see that he lived in a fairly nice house in a good neighborhood.

Getting off the bus that evening, he raced to the front door with his homemade card clutched tightly in his hand. "Mom, I'm home!" he cried as he ran inside. Despite the fact it was early afternoon, the inside of the house was dark and dreary. Todd didn't pause to notice because he was used to that by now. He made his way into the kitchen.

There were dirty dishes piled up in the sick as well as a few pieces of moldy and rotten food. His mother was sitting down with her head laying on the table and for the first time he paused. There were empty bottles crowded on the table, as always, but what was bothering him was the nearly empty glass in front of his mother. When she starting drinking this early, he knew that she would be in a bad mood. Still, he couldn't help but hope that his card might make her feel better. "Mom," he began cautiously.

Slowly, she raised her head and turned to look at him through bleary, bloodshot eyes. Todd had never really thought about it before, but he knew that his mother had been a beautiful woman. Her hair had golden and silky and she had a smile that just seemed to glow. However, lately she hadn't seem to care as much about her appearance. She had gained a good deal of weight and now her face looked swollen and bloated and her dirty hair was matted and tangled. He could only vaguely remember the last time she had put on makeup and a pretty dress. It had been the last time his dad had taken her out to a restaurant, when they both used to laugh and smile. Now, his mother didn't seem to worry about dressing up and it had been days since he had seen his father. 

"What are you doing home already?" she asked, slurring her words slightly, "It's only." Her words faded as she tried to read the clock on the microwave. "Oh, I didn't know it's that late."

He gave his best impression of a smile as he held the card out to her. "Look what I made you," he said. 

"She rubbed her hand across her eyes, her unpainted nails ragged and broken. "I don't have time for this right now," she mumbled. She started hunting through the empty bottles on the table until she finally found one that was about half full and refilled her glass.

"But it's a Mother's Day card," he added.

Angrily, she grabbed the card and threw it down on the table. "I said I don't have time for this," she growled.

He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes, but he tried to keep from crying. "I thought you might like it," he whispered.

"What?" she cried, "You thought I might like it? What, is it supposed to make me forget how screwed up my life it?" Her hands were shaking as her voice rose. "Did you know your father's gone? He left us - because of you. Because of you!" She threw back her arm as if to further illustrate her point and accidentally struck the glass she had been drinking from. It turned over, spilling upon the card. Todd watched helplessly as the words he had carefully written smeared. "Now look what you made me," she demanded.

"But. Mom, I," he struggled.

"Go to your room," she said, sounding defeated, "Just go. I can't take it right now. I just can't take it." She had begun to cry.

He wanted to say there - to comfort her but he knew that was unable to really do anything. Slowly, he turned and walked back to his room. His mother, meanwhile had stumbled to the phone.

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Toad slowly rolled out of bed. He hadn't really thought of his mother for awhile and as time went on it became easier and easier to forget. It wasn't as if he had made any cards for Mother's Day for years. In fact, he might have not thought of it at all if it hadn't been for his radio alarm clock. When it had came on this morning, there was an advertisement for a Mother's Day sale and suddenly all those memories had returned.

That evening, after trying to give his mother the card, she had stayed on the phone and he could hear her saying that she just couldn't take it anymore. She must have been persistent because two days later, on a Sunday no less, a woman had appeared at their door. She turned out to be a social worker who happened to be on call that weekend. Normally, they would have waited until Monday, but it seems that his mother's continual complaints had gotten socials services worried.

He remember the social worker leading him away by the hand. He had turned to look at his mother but she had quickly shut the door. Somehow, even then he had known it would be the last time he would see her.

How ironic that it had been Mother's Day.

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Weekend before last, I went out of town visiting family. On the three hour trip back home, I got the idea to work on a story dealing with several characters and their relationships with their mothers. Strangely enough, when I first thought of this story for Toad, I thought about it being one of the minor stories but the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea. That's when I decided to make it a story by itself. I hoped you like it!` 


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